Taken

by Claire Farrell

  I still hadn’t thought about what would happen if war really did break out, or if the vampires really did unleash an army of beasts on us. Could we even come away with a chance? For all my bravado, I knew we were severely under-armed. Our country was too separated, too unwilling to help each other for nothing because of a few old deals and loyalties and betrayals.

  I hesitated outside my grandmother’s house, breathing heavily as I prepared myself. Anyone could have been there, watching and waiting, but really, I was more concerned with the memories her house always unleashed in me.

  I moved around the rooms quickly, feeling like a child all of a sudden, trying to find everything in as little time as possible. But then I found something important.

  Looking under her bed for a pair of shoes, I pulled out a box. Inside was some paperwork, a forged birth certificate for me, for one. But at the bottom, peeking out as if it wanted me to see it, was an old photograph. Two figures were standing next to each other, a man and woman. My parents, I realised with a sudden pang. I couldn’t breathe, and my eyes watered, making the picture swim before me. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head. Nancy had told me she didn’t have any pictures of my mother, so it was a huge shock.

  I could only see the side of my mother’s face because she was staring up at my father and laughing, but she was beautiful. My father, the plainer of the two, looked as though he couldn’t believe his luck, and in his eyes was a look of pure adoration. I didn’t resemble either of them, the only obvious similarity being my mother’s impossibly red hair. When I squinted, I thought his eye colour might be a similar blue to mine, but other than that, I didn’t recognise them. There was nothing familiar about them at all.

  Closing my eyes tight, I tried to imagine them with a child, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t place them as my parents. I ached inside for what I had lost. Something I never had. Something I would never have. No matter what I did, I would never know them.

  Two people in my life knew them. Gabe had already told me everything he could about my mother, but there was still my father. The importance of parentage seemed to be weighing heavily on me of late, and I realised I had never really asked about my father. Maybe because he was human, maybe because I assumed he would be like my grandmother, but she could tell me things… tell me what she remembered of him.

  I quickly put everything Nancy wanted in a bag and shoved the photo into my pocket. I spent the journey to the hotel trying to pluck up some courage to ask her questions about things that would obviously cause me some kind of pain. But maybe I had to know, to understand who I was, to understand who I could be.

  I sat with Nancy for at least ten minutes, trying to figure out how to handle my questions for her. Her knitting grew agitated, and I knew she was waiting for me to speak and worrying about what I might say.

  In the end, I showed her the photo and watched as the knitting needles trembled in her hands.

  “She was beautiful, wasn’t she?” she said after a few minutes, pushing the photo aside.

  “Tell me about them,” I pleaded.

  “I didn’t know much about her, Ava.”

  “Him, then. He was your son. My father. Surely you can tell me something about him.”

  The knitting slowed, but I feared she might never speak and the moment would be lost forever.

  Finally, she set the knitting aside and looked at me with determined eyes. “Yes. I’m sure I can. It’s… he… I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Take your time then.”

  She stared out the window at the river, a shiver running through her. “I never talk about him. Never. Sometimes I forget. What he looked like, what he liked to eat. Sometimes I forget he’s gone and call out for him. It’s strange. Sometimes I feel like he really is still around, still hovering the way he used to.”

  She smiled and sat back, her face brightening. “He wasn’t the smartest boy, but he was so polite that it was impossible not to feel proud of him. He volunteered at a dog rescue, walked dogs because I wouldn’t let him take any of them home with him. For most of his life, it was just me and him.” Her face hardened. “Until she came along.”

  “Nancy,” I warned.

  She waved her hand. “He liked to do the right thing. He had all of these ideas about doing good in the world, leaving his mark by changing lives in some way. He was the boy who got a black eye defending a smaller child from a bully, even though he was small himself. I couldn’t tell you how many times he would come home with a boy in the year above him at school, one who was neglected at home, just to share his dinner. Little things that nobody else noticed. He had this way of helping without you realising what he was doing until it was over. I liked that about him. I thought he should get more credit for his actions, but that’s the way he was, on the sidelines, never expecting a thank you.”

  “I think… I think I would have liked him,” I said, hesitantly.

  “You’re just like him,” she said, surprising me. “You make this face that’s exactly like him. Something about the eyes, or some kind of facial expression. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s like waking up to a memory. Sometimes, it would chill me, especially when you would be a reminder of her two seconds later. It was like they were haunting me. The pair of them.”

  She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. “But you would have acted like him had I let you. You would eat half of your dinner and sneak the rest outside to feed the wild kittens, thinking I didn’t notice. Do you remember the time you knocked a child unconscious?”

  I shrugged. “Vaguely.” The punishments had been a tad harsh.

  “It all started because a group of children picked on one. You had to get in the way. You’ve never changed, have you? Always sticking up for the underdog. You’re your father’s child in that way.”

  “Then why did you hate me if I was so like him?”

  “You were too like her,” she said nastily, and I knew it was time to go. I had asked my questions, gotten some answers, and for the first time, I had an actual photograph of both of my parents together. It wasn’t a good picture, but it would do.

  For me. For now.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The waiting was the worst part, waiting for news, waiting for other people to make decisions. Carl and Peter were slowly growing stir-crazy staying with me for so long. I didn’t blame them. Part of me was desperate for them to leave. Gabe had been ringing me seemingly incessantly, asking question after question, and by the stress in his voice, I knew he was doing his best to make the idea of finding the market work.

  Four extremely long days later, Gabe called me to an informal meeting at his bar. Everything happened at his bar, it seemed. Maybe because it was on such neutral ground.

  I was surprised to see Aiden there, his face as stern as usual when he caught sight of me. Esther was beside him, but her expression gave nothing away. The four of us sat around a table in the empty bar, distrust and suspicion ripe in the air.

  “There have been a lot of discussions over the past few days,” Gabe said. “The Council have decided to help, as long as you stick to your word. The decision wasn’t unanimous, so my only advice to you is to beware.”

  “And the protection?”

  “The hell hound’s pup will be protected,” Gabe said. “As will your seer.”

  “The seer is a double act,” I said.

  “Esther already offered our protection to them,” Aiden replied, barely controlling his rage. “That should be enough. Don’t you realise how insulting you are?”

  Shrugging, I kept my gaze on Gabe. “I trust Esther. But she isn’t alpha, is she?”

  Aiden stood abruptly, but Esther pulled him back down. “Enough,” she said. “This is about doing some good, not moping over dented egos.” She looked back at me. “If we call them friends, it’s enough.”

  Aiden closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was noticeably calmer. “We’ll take the shifter into our pack. That’s more than enough.”
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br />   “I don’t know about—” I began.

  “This is the way it’ll be,” he said quietly, and I knew he meant it.

  “She won’t be part of your pack,” I said. “She has responsibilities of her own. Promises of her own. Deals of her own.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Esther said.

  “And if she’s not of the pack, she will be arrested as soon as I lay eyes on her,” Aiden added.

  “That’s unfair. The people down there—”

  “We know. They know no better. It’s a tough world.” But he had pity in his eyes for a split second.

  I glanced at Gabe, but he said nothing. “I can’t guarantee she’ll lead the way if we put demands on her,” I tried.

  “Then innocent children will suffer,” Gabe said. “It’s your call, Ava.”

  “It’s not my call,” I protested. “I can’t make decisions for anyone else.”

  “I won’t let anyone hurt her,” Esther said.

  “So what happens now?” I asked, defeated. I was tired, and if they thought I would play along with their little plans for the rest of my life, they had another think coming, but I would deal with it in my own time, when lives weren’t at stake.

  “We’ll regroup on Saturday morning,” Gabe said. “Where do you plan on opening the gate?”

  I rubbed my eyes hard with my knuckles. “Um, the place where we had the trial turned out to be the easiest way. It’s a pocket; I can open it up.”

  Gabe stiffened. “A pocket?”

  “Yeah, the magic around it is the same as… where we were. The magic is sort of meant to steal a piece of another place, or allow it to shroud us, or something. I’m still not clear on it. In this case, it’s Hell.”

  “And you say you were in another place like this?” There was something tight about Gabe’s tone.

  “Yeah. It’s the only way I know that works. I know you talked about hotspots, but I’m wary of trying that when there are already some reliable pockets that I can use. Why? Can the person who created that one make another? Maybe in a less obvious location?”

  Aiden cleared his throat. “The fae who worked that magic was Fionnuala’s son. He was talented, but he can’t help us now.”

  I squirmed in my seat, my heart racing. “What happened to him?”

  “Fionnuala was training him to take over from her some day. But he disgraced himself, and he hasn’t been heard of since,” Gabe said, carefully watching me.

  I was sure my face was burning red. Holy shit! Fionnuala was probably Lucia and Lorcan’s grandmother. Did she even know?

  “How did he disgrace himself?” I tried to look Gabe in the eye, but I couldn’t. I knew he would see what was in my eyes. He always seemed to be able to read me.

  “I’ve no idea,” he said sharply. “Why are you so interested?”

  I aimed for nonchalance. “Knowledge is power. Anyway, we meet up, I open the gate, and then what happens? I mean, if we find them. The children.”

  “If?” Aiden asked incredulously. “I thought finding them was a given.”

  “It’s a tough world,” I snapped, throwing his words back at him. “And things can change.”

  Esther nodded. “She’s right. We have to be prepared for failure, too. Ava, there’s a place organised for the children. Not the cells,” she added hurriedly.

  “We’ll care for them, ask them questions, and see if we can find some use for any of them,” Gabe said in an offhand way that made me want to punch him.

  “What do you mean, find some use? They have families. They’re missing children, you idiot. It’s time for them to go home to the people who love them!”

  “Is that what happened to you when your parents were murdered?” he asked.

  I punched him.

  He held his eye, the shock on his face the first genuine expression I had ever seen him wear.

  Aiden pinned me to the floor before I even realised he had moved. His eyes were scarily black, and he held me down easily with one hand around my neck. So I kneed him in the balls. He gasped, loosening his grip, and I twisted out of his hand and jumped to my feet, kicking him in the arm for good measure.

  I was spitting mad, unable to control the red before my eyes. My fangs were on display, and I didn’t do a thing to stop them. I felt inhuman.

  Aiden struggled to his feet, but Esther got between us, holding out her hands.

  “That’s enough! Both of you.”

  I nodded and turned my back, but Aiden leapt at me, knocking me to the ground. My cheek smacked against the floor. I swung back, elbowing him in the face, and he growled as if he had already shifted into the panther I had been told he turned into.

  Things were about to get worse, but Gabe did the bright light thing that cooled everyone, mostly because we were writhing on the floor from pain. It had to be worse for the shifters than me, but they weren’t long getting to their feet.

  “This is ridiculous,” Gabe said, but he was back to the robot mask.

  “It’s ridiculous to think you can steal children from kidnappers and keep them for yourself!” My temper rose again. What were they thinking?

  “How can we send them back to humans?” Gabe asked. “Think about it. As soon as the market starts up again—and it will, you must realise this—they’ll be right back where they started. More kidnappings and murders. We’ll keep them safe.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “You’ll raise them to do your bidding. The next generation of loyal Guardians. You look down on humans, but they’re so much better than you all.” I walked away before I hit someone again.

  “Will you be there on Saturday?” Gabe called after me.

  “I’ll be there,” I said without turning. “But you’ll regret this, I promise you.” I hesitated. “One day.”

  I headed straight back to Folsom’s place to fill everyone in, knowing nobody could follow me into the hiding place without an invitation. I walked in to see Lorcan talking to the girl who had been with the angel a lot, and she turned to me with a smile. Her skin was as dark as Lorcan’s was light, and the pair looked curiously balanced together.

  “We haven’t really been introduced,” she said. “I’m Kate.”

  “Ava. Can you round up everyone? I need to talk to them all.”

  Looking surprised, she scurried off, leaving me with Lorcan.

  “You doing okay?” I asked him.

  To my surprise, he hugged me. “Thank you for letting us say goodbye to her.” He pulled up my sleeves to see the damage his deal had done. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do about this.”

  “It’s fine. Lucia doing okay?”

  “She seems better here. Happier. You seem angry though.”

  I nodded. “I am, pretty much. Every time I fix something, I seem to create something worse.”

  Folsom approached from behind me. “I saw you from my window.”

  “Are you really rebels?” I asked. “Is there really something like that going on? Could you do something about the Council? Rise up against them? Stop them?”

  “It’s better for you if you don’t know everything,” he started, but we were interrupted by everyone gathering around. Not all of them showed up, but I figured the ones who did were interested enough to actually listen to me.

  “So it’s not over,” I said when I finished relaying what had happened in Gabe’s bar. “At least, not for me. The Council can’t be trusted, so I’m warning anyone who is offered protection, say no. Actually, say yes, and then hide as soon as you can.”

  “In their pack, I would be the lowest of the low,” Val said. “Besides, I’m no shifter, and Leah needs me. I swore an oath, and I’ll keep it.”

  Lucia inched toward Val, her eyes glittering in obvious admiration.

  “But Val,” Leah said, “you’ll be free.”

  “No, I won’t,” she said firmly. “You heard Ava. We can’t trust those people. They want to steal the children for themselves. We aren’t going to help them do that.”

>   I cleared my throat. “Actually, we are.”

  Raised voices shouted obscenities at me, and I felt the tension ratchet up a notch.

  “Wait,” I said. “Let me explain. Closing down the market is a good thing. And the children don’t have to stay with the Council forever. After all, nothing lasts forever. Not even the Council.” The silence was ominous, and I wondered if I had taken a step too far.

  Folsom raised his hand. “She could be the face of this. People would look to her and want to join us.”

  “Can we trust her?” someone asked.

  “We’re not ready for this,” another said. “We’re too few in number.”

  Lucia stepped toward Lorcan, pulling her freaky twin show in front of everyone. They all watched in awe as she gripped her brother’s hands, her fingers pinching into his pale skin as their eyeballs moved rapidly from side to side. It lasted longer than usual, and when it was done, Lorcan’s fingers were bleeding.

  “It’s a long hard road ahead, but it can be done. And she can be trusted.” Lorcan nodded at me, and as I looked around the room, I saw that people were prepared to listen to him. Whether it was the fact that Lucia could see things others couldn’t, or just loyalty toward Helena, or maybe even the fae who had fathered them, it didn’t really matter. They had power. They were slaves no longer.

  I desperately wanted to talk to him about Fionnuala and her mysterious son, but I had no facts, only guesswork, and it would be a shame to give him another parent only to take her away.

  “Let’s deal with one issue at a time,” Val said. “Closing the market is our first priority.”

  “Betraying the Council is pure folly,” Cam said lazily. We all turned to see him lounging in a chair.